


Kiss Me Once, Then Once More

by AngeliqueH



Series: Try To Keep The Score [2]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Stucky - Fandom, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Ableism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Artist Steve Rogers, Awesome Sam Wilson, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Blind Character, Blindness, Brock Rumlow (mention) - Freeform, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, Coffee Shops, Disabled Character, First Dates, First Kiss, Gay Bucky Barnes, Insecure Bucky Barnes, M/M, Medical Conditions, POV Steve Rogers, Past Relationship(s), Physical Disability, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Clint Barton, Sam Wilson is a Dork, Shit You will Hate Brock even more, Skinny!Steve, blind!bucky, comic book artist, retinitis pigmentosa, someone is a terrible kisser
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-07 18:55:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11065080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeliqueH/pseuds/AngeliqueH
Summary: Steve met James Barnes at the medical clinic two weeks ago. After making a fool of himself, he offered James his help to walk him back to his apartment.Since that day, Steve has been wishing he would run into James Barnes again by some sort of miracle. Since that same day, Steve has been asking himself why the hell did he wave goodbye to a blind man.- It was just by reflex, okay?This Story takes place afterA Point Is All You Can Score





	1. Chapter 1

"And when do you need this Tony? Oh - _shit_ \- okay, yeah... Of course... I understand... I'll come up with some ideas by the end of the week..."

_Steve Rogers: head of the department of miracles._

 

"... And you think Fury will agree with that? Ok Tony, if you say so..."

Steve takes a step forward; he's sixth in line. Even though he’s not allowed to have caffeine because of his heart condition, he’s desperately in need of a hot beverage to warm him up. He’s got a long day of work ahead, so he thought that going out of his apartment was pretty clever. That was before he realized how cold it was for a spring day.

"Okay Tony, I really have to go, alright? I'll call you back."

Steve hangs up his phone and looks at the chalk written menu hanging on the wall. It's the first time that he's been to this place even though it's in the same neighborhood where he spent most of his life. He had taken note of its location two weeks ago when he walked with James Barnes to his apartment after meeting him at the medical clinic.

For the last couple of weeks, he's been thinking about this unexpected encounter. Being blind didn't seem like a big deal for James Barnes - at least he didn't act like it was - and true to his word, he walked back to his apartment pretty much without any help from Steve. They kept joking and teasing one another with the same easy laughter they had shared together while waiting at the doctor’s office. It was only at the end of their walk that James suddenly became quiet and more focused. They were standing on the corner of a busy intersection when Steve saw James tenses and frowns; worriedly biting on his lower lip. Internally cursing at his lack of experience, Steve stepped closer, brushing James' arm slightly to let him know that he was right by his side. He didn't expect James to grab the crook of his elbow to let himself be guided through the heavy traffic.

Steve was pleased to finally be useful, but while he was guiding James, he became more and more nervous. He feared to miss an obstacle or to fail at moving in synchronization with a much taller and bigger man than himself. He noticed the different textured material and the high contrasting color of the curbs edges when waiting for the audible signal at intersections. Realizing how scary it must be to walk out there in the dark, his admiration for James only grew bigger from that moment. They exchanged some polite small talk and said goodbye. Since that day, Steve has been wishing he would walk into James Barnes again by some sort of miracle. Since that same day, Steve has been asking himself why the hell did he wave goodbye to a blind man.

_It was just by reflex, okay?_

The Hawkeye's Café looks nothing out of the ordinary except maybe for the multiple pictures of the same guy hung on the wall with various awards, medals, and trophies. Whoever owns this place is pretty much into bows and arrows.

Steve pictures the barista with green tights in his head and chuckles. There were still five more people in front of him before he could order his coffee. Witnessing how the blond guy and the dark haired girl welcome the clients by their name, talking, and joking with them like their friends or family, Steve begins to feel out of place. He turns and looks at the door when the antique door bell chimes.

And there he was, standing at the entrance of the coffee shop: James I-Can-Do-It-By-Myself Bucky Barnes. He's dressed up with washed up dark jeans, a red Henley, a brown unzipped hoodie and a black cap. The front clip of his backpack is attached - _aww how cute_. White cane in hand, his head is tilted as he listens to the people talking around him while trying to decipher where the waiting line is.

_Alright, stay calm Steve, try not to sound like you’ve been dreaming of this for two weeks._

"James?" Steve says half astonished, half excited to see the gorgeous man for the second time in less than a month.

_Okay, it sounded more like 10% surprised, 90% like a fangirl, smooth Rogers, real' smooooth._

James looks unsure. His unfocused eyes scan from left to right a few times in Steve's direction. He walks to where the voice came from, stopping a few feet from where Steve is standing.

"Steve?" he asks, hesitantly.

"Yes, James, it's Steve... Uh, Steve Rogers. We met the other day at the clinic."

James nods and smiles, looking genuinely happy to run into Steve unexpectedly.

"Yes, Steve, of course, I remember you. Sorry, from where I was standing I took you for..."

"Oh come on, don't say you thought I was a small teenage girl again," Steve says, rolling his eyes.

_James, The Only Guy Who Uses His Front Clip: 1_

_Steve, I Feel Like I'm Part Of a Fan-fiction: 1 (for blocking the first hit.)_

 James shrugs his shoulders and chuckles.

"Tell me, how have you been?" He asks with genuine concern.

"Much better than two weeks ago, thanks for asking."

"Yeah, you do sound better."

Steve feels a nice warmth in his chest. It's nice to have someone who seems to truly care when asking about how he's doing. It doesn't happen often since Steve mostly works from home, and he's been living by himself for ages.

           _Bucky Too Good to Be True: 2_

_Steve I'm Not Going to Cry (no I won't): 1_

"I'm glad you survived. Otherwise, I would have had to listen to my roommate for days, crying over the tragic death of his favorite comic book artist."

Steve moves forward as two clients step aside to wait for their coffees. James sticks by his side.

"Can you tell me who’s working at the register today? Clint or Kate?"

"How am I supposed to know? Oh -"

_Oh Stevie Stevie Stevie, how dumb can you be._

"I'm pretty sure one is a guy, and the other one’s a girl, but you know how bad my vision is."

Steve observes the man at the register while the girl who looks much younger is busy behind the espresso machine.

"If by Clint you mean cute blond barista with bright pale eyes, a black shirt with a purple logo on the front and an arrow tattooed on his forearm, then yes, that's him taking the orders.

"No, that's Kate."

_What?_

"I knew I've seen you before, smartass. It was at this shitty comedy club, right?"

"C'mon Rogers, I'm blind, how am I supposed to know if the guy has a tattoo on his arm?"

_Good point._

Even though it's wrong, Steve is grateful that James can't see how much he's blushing.

"Hey, I'm just teasing you," he continues with a soft voice. "Yes, it's Clint Barton. He owns the place."

"Anyway,” Steve asks with a hint of annoyance in his voice, “why does it matter?"

James shrugs but doesn’t answer right away.

"'Cause he’s a good guy.”

_Good? Good at what? That's it; he's got a crush on him._

 

Steve notices how Bucky smiles sheepishly before biting on his lower lip. He looks unsure just like the other day when he stopped and waited instead of asking for Steve's help to cross the heavy traffic intersection. It occurs to Steve that James might have a hard time dealing with people who make his life easier.

They finally reach the counter.

"Bucky! What's up man?" The blond man punches the order in the register without even asking what James wants and turns to the dark hair girl working behind the counter. "Kate, I'll take it from here, let me this one. Come and take care of the next clients, please."

James takes out his wallet and brings out a folded ten dollar bill.

"Alright, out of a ten. Here's a five for you." The unusual use of details annoys Steve.

Clint carefully put the money in James' hand and waits for him to fold it - _different way? But why?_  - and puts it in his wallet. Steve rolls his eyes as he watches the way Clint gently takes James' hand to place the spare change in his palm.

_Come on, don't over do it, man._

But Steve recognizes an act of kindness when he sees one and he’s moved by the way Clint takes the time to help Bucky.

"Nah, you keep that," James pushes Clint's hand delicately and leaves the coins on the counter.

"Thanks, man." Clint takes back the change and winks at Steve before placing the spare change in a jar labeled 'Just cause you're short on the money doesn't mean you can't have a coffee' and ‘thanks for your help.'

           _Cute blond Guy with a big heart: 1_

_Little twig Rogers: 0_

Before he switches place with Kate who's waiting patiently, Clint looks and smiles at Steve. "What will it be for you, sir?"

Steve gives his order and walks to the end of the counter. He stands by James' side who's already waiting for his coffee.

"Alright, here's a soy latte... Ugh... decaf for you, sir," Big Hearted Cutie points at Steve with his head. "And here's your order James, same as usual but I added an extra shot for you, my friend."

_Nicely done, man._

          _Cute kitten: 2_

_The 'nobody' standing next to James Barnes: 0_

Clint places James' cup on the counter. "There you go, right in front of you." James steps forward and slides his hand carefully on the countertop until his fingers find the cup. "Want me to guide you to an empty table, Buck?"

"I'll be okay. Hopefully, Steve, here, will take care of that."

Clint turns his pale blue eyes to Steve and smiles fondly. Steve suddenly feels ashamed for thinking that Clint was trying to hit on James. It's obvious that the guy genuinely cares for Bucky and only tries to make his life easier.

"Alright guys, enjoy your drinks. See you tomorrow Bucky. Come back anytime, Steve."

_Clint Barton: Angel on Earth_

_Steve Rogers: far behind on the well-doing chart, like low, very low on the chart._

 

Again, James is chewing on his bottom lip, waiting by the counter, looking hesitant.

_Come on, why don't you say it? Can.You.Help.Me. Four words James, just four words._

Steve, determined to not act like an ass - especially in front of Saint Clint here - gently takes James' cup from his left hand.

"Here, let me hold this for you."

James sighs and grabs Steve's elbow. He looks somehow relieved that Steve took upon himself to guide him without the need to ask or to explain how he can't hold someone's arm, a coffee cup, and his white cane all at the same time.

They reach a small table by the window. The cloudy sky of the morning finally cleared, replacing the grayness with a bright sun. Steve is grateful for its comforting warmth; skinny as he is, he's always cold, no matter what the season is. They sit one in front of each other alongside the window. Almost immediately though, James seems to be bothered by the sunlight and Steve can't help to wonder why. James frowns and moans in pain. He turns his head from the window and covers his pale blue eyes with his left hand while his other hand is fishing for something in his backpack.

"Anything wrong?" Steve inquires, worried.

"Sorry, my... my eyes are very light sensitive."

"Really? But..."

"But how's that even possible since I'm blind, right?" He pulls out a pair of sunglasses with very dark red lenses and puts them on.

Steve, confused, lifts his eyebrows and questioningly opens his hands even if James can’t really see him.

"Uh, yeah, I thought..."

"It's because of my eye condition," James cuts him, sounding a little aggravated. He makes it obvious to Steve that it's a sore spot that he's not willing to talk about. 

_Congrats Rogers, you win first prize in the asshat category._

          _Barista Clint: would have known that_

_Ignorant Rogers: maybe you should have read this article on retinitis pigmentosa the other night on wiki after all._

James sighs.

"C'mon Steve, it's not like you could have known. Relax, take a breath, okay? So, what’s up?"

"I'm sorry, do you want to switch table?" Steve asks, deliberately avoiding James' apparent change of subject.

"No, no, I'm fine," but his face shows a mixture of annoyance and sadness.

James lets out a slow breath and runs one of his hands through his dark hair. They remain quiet after that, sipping their own drink. To Steve's relief, James is the first one to break the awkward silence that had settled between them.

 

"Um," he clears his throat, "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I'm used to being around people who are aware of all this." He waves his hand in front of his eyes just like he did back at the medical clinic when Steve met him. "Clint and I have known each other since high school; he’s one of my closest friends." He's fiddling with his mug. Steve can't really say if he's looking at him through his dark glasses or at his hands. He continues before Steve asks any questions.

"I guess since we seem to be running into each other every other day, I might as well explain some things to you." He shifts in his chair and starts giving Steve some explanations with a resigned look on his face.

"You know those little tiny straws on juice boxes?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"Imagine closing one eye and looking through one of those with your other eye. That's how having less than ten degrees of visual field looks like. It means I have tunnel vision. People think I'm completely in the dark, but I'm not. I still detect hand movements, and I get weird flashes of lights every so often. Also, the sun really hurts my eyes." He pauses and takes a sip of his coffee.

"Um... most people suffering from the same condition keep enough central vision to read and work with a minimum of adaptation. The first thing you learn is how to walk around with this," he taps on the table gently with his folded white cane. "Me, I'm part of the lucky ones stuck with the more aggressive and fast deteriorating form of the disease. Add some cataracts on top of that, and all I have left is a narrow patch of blurry vision."

_Yup, I definitely should I have read this article._

"That sucks."

_Oh wow Rodgers, you really know how to make a man feel better._

"It fucking sucks, but not as much as being a ninety pounds asthmatic."

"One hundred and ten pounds," Steve retorts before both men start laughing as the tension dissipates.

"Such a cute little twig."

"Thanks, jerk; I wasn't feeling bad enough already for picking the worst table in the place."

_Wait, what? CUTE little twig you said?_

 

It's Steve's turn to change the direction of where this conversation is going.

"To answer the question you asked earlier; I've been busy. I'm back at work and currently trying to come up with some ideas for a new character. I was just hanging up on Stark when you walked in here. We're working on the new Howling Commandos' arc."

"I'm glad to know you're feeling better. Wait. Stark? As in Tony Stark?" James asks, impressed. "Sam keeps saying this writer is a real genius."

"Yeah, a real pain in the ass but an excellent writer, I agree."

James smiles. He might not be aware of it, but the way he tilts his head lets the sun illuminate his face perfectly. Steve wonders if this man has any idea how gorgeous he is. Maybe he still pictures himself like he was in his early twenties when his sight started to deteriorate. Steve can't take his eyes off of James’ beautiful and mature face; from the light stubble on his cheekbones to his soft bowed lips.

_Don’t need to search anymore Rogers; James Buchanan: Captain's lost friend and new member of the Howling Commandos is sitting right in front of you._

They keep chatting for another half an hour before going their separate ways but with the promise to meet again next week.

That day, Steve works until late at night at his drafting table and comes up with a new character: James Buchanan. With his broad shoulders, semi-long dark hair, blue eyes and cleft chin, the new member of the Howling Commandos won't pass unnoticed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who wonder why James folds his money in different ways, it's a simple trick for blind people to differentiate the different bills since american money is all of the same shape and color.


	2. Chapter 2

Is this a date?

_No, it's not a date._

Well, it's not exactly what Steve had in mind when he called Bucky the other day. He’s not even sure James dates men. What if he has read the signs all wrong? Steve swallows the lump in his throat.

It’s been going on like this since they met last spring. They would meet every week at the Hawkeye’s Café and talk about nothing and everything. Steve has always been known to capture people's traits through is caricatures. James seems to particularly enjoy Steve's description of the pedestrians walking by the coffee chop. The more he exaggerates the descriptions, the more James laughs; and God, Steve likes to watch how James's face lights up when he's crying with laughter. It's like the world stops turning for a moment.

The last time he met with James at Clint’s coffee shop, their conversation felt like dancing . Steve hates dancing. Left foot forward then left foot back, right foot back then forward and there you have Steve Rogers dancing the salsa. _Fuck, what's wrong with me?_ Steve rubs his face in his hands and growls. Maybe it’s not him; maybe it’s James?

They would sit together and talk about their respective week. James would eventually say something sweet and becomes a little flirty. Steve would tell him how he missed him or wished he had come with him at some artistic events. Then, James would step back and do a 180 degrees change of direction in the conversation, fast enough to make Steve dizzy.

Heaven knows Steve makes it obvious that he likes James - well, he thinks so - but for some reason, nothing happens. It's been a while since he dated someone. Maybe his flirting techniques are rusted?

_Maybe I’ve lost my… My what? My sex appeal? C’mon Rogers, it's not like you ever had any._

 

Steve closes the cardboard box filled with some of the material he needs to bring to San Diego in two weeks. The Comic Con is coming up at the end of the month, and he still didn't receive the new Howling Commandos posters. The idea crossed Steve's mind to ask James to come with him just to watch the fans' reaction. Their jaw would drop to the floor if they met the man on which the newest member of the Commandos is based.

So far, the character of James Buchanan has been a huge success, and the fans keep asking for more. They want his origin story; they want him to go on solo missions. People even write fan fictions with him and the Captain.

Steve looks at his phone as it flashes with a notification. It’s a text from his friend Darcy Lewis.

 **Darcy** : plan still on? You sure you don’t want me to do the tour with you and your date?  
**Darcy** : ;P  
**Steve** : no, you’d ruin the surprise  
**Steve** : but thanks for the favor; I owe you big time

_Okay, 10 o'clock. Time to go._

***

When Steve enters the coffee shop, he's welcomed by a bouncing Clint even though the place is quiet. Kate is refilling the shelf with some pouches of Fairtrade coffee for sale while waiting for the lunch hour rush.

"Steve!" Clint says cheerfully.

_That guy is just unreal. Doesn't he have bad days like everyone else? Or is it just the caffeine?_

"Hey, Clint! Mind if I take Bucky's and my usual order to go?"

"No, of course. You guys are finally going on a date?"

"What? Uh. No, _no, no_ \- It's not a date. I just told him I had a surprise for him."

"You don't want it to be a date, or you're trying to convince yourself it's not a date?"

"I think you've lost me here. What do you mean?"

"Steve, I've been watching you guys for the past weeks, it's obvious that you are a perfect match."

Steve remains completely silent. He’s sure he’s about to self-combust judging on how hot his face feels.

"I don't... I'm not sure... I think..." he stammers.

"Okay, here's your order, want me to put those into a carrying tray?"

"Uh, yes. Yes! Please."

Steve is still trying to process what Clint has said. James' closest friend thinks that the both of them fits well together? 

Steve walks to the door. Before he pushes into it, he hears Clint's voice. He sounds serious for once.

"Hey, Stevie?"

Steve turns and looks at him over his shoulder.

"No one ever asked Bucky on a date. Be nice to him, okay?"

_Who said it was a date?_

***

James Bucky Barnes has never been on a date. James Gorgeous-Smart & Funny Barnes never dated anyone? How can that be possible? Even Steve, as scrawny as he looks, have dated girls and boys. He’s never been in a long lasting relationship. He was still trying to find the man or the woman of his life until now.

_Whoa, Steve, not too fast._

Did he sound like he was asking James on a date when he called him earlier this week?

_Um, maybe?_

All he asked was if James was free on Wednesday. When James asked where they were going, Steve had the brilliant idea to tell him that it was a surprise and to dress up casually.

Okay, let’s admit it. It did sound like he was asking James to go on a date with him, to which, technically, James agreed to.

_So…_

Steve gasps when reality hits him.

_Oh shit. Oh fuck._

Steve feels a twist in his gut. He starts thinking of all the ways he can screw things up and what Clint and his roommate Sam are going to do to him if he does.

 

Steve snaps back into present when he hears the sound of the accessible crossing signal at the last main intersection. He finally reaches James’ apartment building. He pulls open the door and presses the button for Bucky’s apartment.

“Yo.”

“Hello? It’s Steve.”

Steve waits there for a minute. Nothing. He searches for his phone in his back pocket to check if he buzzed the right apartment when he hears the door unlocking. One flight of stairs up and he’s standing in front of James’ door. He heaves a huge breath before knocking.

A man opens the door slightly, leaving the security chain on.

“Hi, I’m Steve. Steve Rogers. Is James home? We’re supposed to…”

The man shuts the door in Steve’s face who stares at the peephole, bewildered.

(Sweet Jesus! James Barnes! Why didn’t you tell me you were going on a date with Steve Rogers? THE Steve Rogers!)

Steve can hear the muffled voice of the man shouting on the other side of the door.

(Fuck, why did I put on sweatpants this morning? I’m meeting Steve Rogers, and I’m wearing sweatpants, fuck my life.)

The chain makes a sliding sound, and the door finally opens. The slim, athletic man is beaming. He bows exaggeratedly as Steve enters the apartment.

“Hi, I’m Sam Wilson.” The man shakes Steve’s hand with excitement. “I’m Bucky’s roommate. Apparently, I’m gonna have to have a word with him later since he neglected to mention that he’s going on a date with one of the most talented artists in the comic book industry.”

_Okay, okay, it's date. We're going on a date, you happy?_

“Shut up Wilson. I told you Steve was an artist.” James’ voice comes from a room at the end of the hallway.

Sam looks down at the tray in Steve’s hand with the two coffee cups.

“Aww, you really shouldn’t have. Your mama raised you well.” He takes the tray and puts it on the counter before taking Steve’s coffee cup. He calls for James again. “Get your blind ass here Bucky, your coffee is getting cold,” and brings the cup to his lips.

“But that’s…”

“Mmmm, still hot…” Sam takes a sip.

“But…”

“What the hell?” Sam looks horrified. “What did Clint do with my latte?”

“Ugh, that was my decaf soy latte.” Steve manages to say.

“Oh, shi…”

But Steve doesn’t listen to Sam’s apologies. He’s watching James as he walks down the hall towards them. Bucky stops and ducks his head like he’s a little shy. His beautiful blue eyes scan from left to right multiple times. Steve knows by now that it’s how James uses his very limited vision.

“Hey James, you ready?”

“Hi,” he says, softly as a shy smiles curves across his lips.

His dark hair looks soft as silk. The smell of his aftershave fills up the room with a fresh scent of cedar and sandalwood that goes straight to Steve’s head. He is stunning with his dark blue V-neck shirt that Steve can slightly see through and some skinny black jeans. It takes every ounce of strength for Steve to take his eyes off of James when he hears Sam clear his throat.

“It was nice meeting you, Steve. I hope to get a chance to see you again. I love what you did with The Falcon; I’d be thrilled if you could sign my omnibus next time you stop by.” He shakes Steve’s hand once again. Sam quickly looks at Bucky from the corner of his eye before giving Steve a knowing smile.

James walks to the small entryway shelf. He grabs his folded white cane and his keys. He seems to hesitate between the two different pair of sunglasses placed on the shelf.

“Sam?” he asks, unsure.

“Go with the blue ones, that’s it, the first ones. It’s cloudy outside; they’ll be dark enough. People will take you for Sebastian Stan.”

James chuckles and smiles sheepishly.

“You’re ready to go?” Steve inquires.

“You’re sure you don’t want to tell me where we’re going?”

“No. If I tell you, it won’t be a surprise anymore.”

James takes his backpack, walks around Steve and heads for the door.

"Don't just stand there watching my ass. C'mon Rogers, hurry up."

_James Bucky Barnes a.k.a. the slow and torturous death of Steve Rogers._

 

***

Steve had requested a Uber in advance. As soon as they walk out of James’ building, Stan, their driver, picks them up and drives them to the Metropolitan Museum on Fifth Avenue.

James bites on his lips like he always does when he’s afraid to ask something. He seems nervous and holds on to Steve’s arm tighter than usual as Steve guides him up the stairs to access the museum entrance.

“Are we going to visit the Met? It’s not that I don’t appreciate spending time with you but looking at some paintings isn’t my thing.”

Steve huffs. “Just trust me, okay?”

They walk into the main entrance and go directly to the ticket counter.

“Hi, I’m Steve Rogers. I’m here to meet with Darcy Lewis.”

“Hold on a minute; I’ll call her office.” She dials Darcy’s extension and talks briefly with her.

“Alright, gentlemen. She says to meet her at the Prado’s Exhibit, that’s in…” She looks at her computer screen attentively. “Okay, it says here that it’s in gallery 999 on the second floor.”

Steve listens to her instructions to reach the gallery but takes a paper map just in case. James deftly folds his white cane and places it in his backpack. He slips his sunglasses into the collar of his shirt before reaching down to grab Steve's hand.

_What? He’s holding my hand, oh my god, we’re holding hands, ohmygod ohmygodohmygod…_

It takes Steve a minutes to process what is happening. James’ shyness is apparent, and he’s deliberately avoiding Steve’s eyes - _how convenient._ They walk to the stairs slowly, James being a bit more hesitant than usual. 

_I like you just like you are, dumbass. You don't need to hide your handicap. I know that's what you're trying to do..._

 

***

“Steve! It’s about time! Did you get lost on your way?” Darcy’s voice is half teasing, half serious.

“Sorry Darcy, he was in charge of the map.” Steve pokes James in the ribs who rolls his eyes and shakes his head in disbelief.

“Nice to meet you, James. I don’t want to sound rude, but I have to hurry back to my office. Now, listen to me. This exhibit opens to the general public next Friday, but I managed to get the authorisation to let you guys enjoy it before everyone else. I hope you like it and I’m looking forward to hearing your thoughts, especially yours, James. I worked hard to bring this exhibit from Spain to New York. Please, don’t tell me I’ve wasted my time.”

She walks out of the gallery, leaving the two men alone.

“Oh, I see it. Come with me.” Steve grabs James’ hand and walks directly to the back of the room.

Both men stand in front of a Velazquez painting.

“This one is called ‘Apollo in the Forge of Vulcan.' Velazquez painted it in the 17th century. This is one of my favorite painting of all time. I’ve spent hours studying it while I was in art school but never had the money to travel to Madrid to see it. Wow, it’s beautiful.”

James’ smile vanished a while ago. He doesn’t look angry at Steve, just sad. He’s frowning while listening to Steve’s description of the painting.

“Hey, James, you’re with me?”

He jerks his head. “Yeah, yeah, of course.”

“Wanna take a closer look?”

James frowns. If he wasn’t angry a few seconds ago, he certainly seems upset now.

“I’m sorry Steve, I shouldn’t have come here with you. That was a stupid idea. I was…” He trails off. He bites on his lower lip and turns his head away. “It was stupid to trust you.” He reaches for his backpack and starts unzipping it to take his cane out.

_Fuck, no no no, it’s not…_

“James. Wait! This… this is the surprise I wanted to show you – _aaaarrrg_ – I’m sorry, I played this scene in my head so many times... Please, give me your hand. Just,” Steve sighs heavily. “Give me your hand and trust me one last time, okay?”

James remains silent and distant.

“Bucky?” Steve pleads.

James nods his head but keeps it down, his sightless eyes fixing the floor.

Steve takes James’ hand and walks him near the painting. He guides his hand to touch Apollo’s crown of laurels, but James jerks his arm away and steps back.

“Steve! Fuck! What are you doing? You know we can’t touch the artwork.”

“James, this is what I wanted to show you. Those are 3-D copies made for blind people. You’re allowed to feel all the paintings in this room as much as you want. When I read about this exhibit in the newspaper, I immediately called my friend Darcy who works here to know if we could have special access before it opens next Friday.”

James narrows his eyebrows.

“You did this,” James widens his eyes in disbelief, “for me?”

Steve huffs a nervous laugh and scratches the back of his head.

“Well, it didn’t go as I had planned.”

Steve reaches for James’ hand and rubs his palm gently with his thumb before guiding it back on the 3D canvas. He describes every detail of the paintings as James runs his fingers eagerly over every one of them. He tells him about Goya, El Greco, and Da Vinci’s art. Steve stops talking when James lets out a shuddering breath and breaks into a sob.

_I was right, it wasn't 'just' a date for James Barnes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sure you all wonder what that blue V-neck shirt looks like, am I right? ;P 
> 
>  


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, this chapter is a little bit sadder but count on Steve Rogers to light up the mood.  
> warning: ableism

On their way back, Steve spots a park near James’ apartment building.

“James? Do you want to sit in the park?”

The sun is setting, and the remaining clouds give the sky a beautiful mix of orange and pink. Steve picks a bench under a tree so that the remaining light of the day doesn’t hurt James’ sensible eyes.

They sit in silence as the emotions of the day sink in.

James can’t let go of Steve’s hand, like a kid holding his most precious possession. His usual self-assured and bold attitude have left the place to a more vulnerable version of himself. Steve remembers what Clint had told him earlier today. He clears his throat before asking the question that has been weighing on his mind all day.

“Bucky? Can I ask you something?”

“What is it, Stevie?” He’s fiddling with his white cane handle.

“Is it true? What Clint told me? He said you never dated anyone?”

James freezes for a second. No smart comments or sarcastic remarks like he would usually make. He nods and sighs heavily.

“I haven’t been really trying, you know?”

“I don’t understand. Why?”

James turns his head the opposite way. Steve expects him to avoid the question, but when James starts telling his story, his voice is thoughtful as he recalls the distant memories.

“Back in high school, I was pretty confused with my sexuality. My parents were not opened on the subject at all. I had no one to trust on this matter. I remember kissing girls at parties just to convince myself I wasn’t gay but the more I did it, the more I knew I was.

Back then, I could still see, and I was on my school’s elite soccer team. By the end of my tenth grade, I started noticing my side vision changing. I didn’t tell anyone, and I trained and played even harder. I was on the soccer field every day. There was a guy, the captain of our team – his name was Brock Rumlow – and God he was gorgeous. Anyway, by the end of my senior year, I was 18 and totally in love with him. I’m sure, at some point, he felt the same, but we never said anything to each other until one night, just before he had to leave for a summer training camp, he kissed me. I thought it was the best thing that ever happened to me. Even though neither one of us were out at that time, I wanted this relationship, and I was ready to confront my parents about it. That summer, I lost a significant amount of peripheral vision – or my side vision if you prefer. Coming out to my parents wasn’t exactly on top of my priority list.” He stops and swallows hard, bitterness written all over his face.

“Most of my friends had decided to attend the same community college. When I walked into the main hall with my white cane that following fall, everyone I knew from high school avoided me except Clint, Sam, and Brock. I was fighting depression and trying to cope with the fact that I was going blind all at the same time. My central vision was still pretty good, and even though I couldn’t walk or run without my cane, I was capable of keeping up with everyone. I would attend every soccer match of Brock’s new team, hoping to spend some time with him. It wasn’t half as much as we used to. He was acting differently; he was distant. He wouldn’t even let me take his arm to guide me.”

He huffs in a self-deprecating laugh. “Each time I wanted to ask for your help to guide me, I thought about this bastard.”

“Anyway, one day I asked him why he was such an asshole, and he told me he didn’t want to date a disabled person. He said that he couldn’t stand people staring at him when I was with him. He also added that he wasn’t the kind of guy who takes care of charity cases.”

At this point, Steve can barely listen to James’ story any longer. Fucking Brock Rumlow, how can you hurt a guy like James Barnes, especially while he was at his lowest. Anger burns inside of him. Steve’s whole body shakes as he tries to contain his rage.

“James, not everyone thinks like that.”

James nods his head, thoughtfully.

“I came out to my parents one year later. It was the same year I was declared officially blind because of my restricted visual field. They asked me why being disabled wasn’t enough for me; why I had to be gay on top of that… like my life wasn’t complicated enough already. They said guys would only have pity for me. After what happened with Brock the year before, I thought maybe they were right. I stopped searching for love. I figured I needed to be realistic.”

He lets out a shuttering breath and closes his eyes. He starts rocking his body gently from right to left. Steve wonders how many times this man consoled himself that way. After what Brock Rumlow and his parents had told him, it must have taken James a great deal of courage to go out with Steve today.

Steve tugs gently on James' arm. “Hey. C’mere.” James leans closer to Steve who wraps his arms around his neck. James holds on tight to Steve’s shirt behind his back while he rests on Steve’s shoulder. Steve can feel the warmth of his breath on the delicate skin of his neck. He turns his head, and James’ soft lips are just right there, waiting, almost begging, to be kissed.

One of James’ hand let go of Steve’s shirt. He traces the shape of Steve's lips gently with his thumb. Steve’s heart starts racing when James finally places his lips over his and gives him one soft and chaste kiss. But James rapidly sits back and looks down with a mix of embarrassment and sadness on his face.

“I’m – I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Steve almost cries.

 _Please don’t go. Give me a chance for fuck’s sake_.

“It’s probably the worst kiss you’ve ever had. I’m not – I’m not used to…” James crosses his arms and starts rocking his body again. He suddenly looks so young. He reminds Steve of a kid waiting to be reprimanded for doing something wrong.

“You just need practice. I’m sure you’ve got some potential.”

James stops rocking and gives Steve a shy smile before his lips curve into a smirk.

“Oh yeah?”

_Okay, Mr. Don’t Challenge Me is back._

“I know this skinny guy, dumb enough to take a blind man to the museum on their first date. I’m sure he can help you with the kissing matter.”

James purses his lips and raises his eyebrows.

“You kinda have to admit it would have been a terrible move if it wasn’t for that 3D exhibit.”

“What? Would you have preferred to watch the sunset? Just shut up and kiss me again,” Steve pulls James closer. “Jerk.”

Their second kiss is…

_Not better. Not at all. We really need to work on his technique…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really appreciate your comments; part 3 is under construction; feel free to let me know what you'd like for our boys


End file.
